"Be Still, Just for Me" {Bakugo x Reader}

Day 1

Silence. The quiet stillness of early morning, sunlight streaming through the cracks in untouched curtains that swayed like slim tree branches beneath a gentle blow of air from the ceiling vent. The birds who woke with the sunrise sang songs, eventually curtailed by the occasional roar of an engine as the routine of work roused residents within the building.

The covers on your bed were soft and wrinkled from daily use, the smell of detergent long-gone. You weren't supposed to wake up for another half hour, your internal clock used to the regular blaring of the alarm set on your phone sitting silently on the bedside table. Comfort and warmth kept you sleeping...until a loud thud literally rocked your bed, causing you to jolt awake.

"Eh...what the fu-" You looked around and rubbed the sleep from your eyes and drool from the side of your mouth when, in your bleary vision, movement caught your eye. And loud, frustrated yelling filled your ears. Both combined made you still, having no clue what was happening...or who was in your bedroom.

You sunk into the bed, ready to bolt to the opposite side and grab the baseball bat you kept hidden under the bed frame for emergencies. The stranger stumbled around on the floor looking drunk or disoriented to the point of falling right back down again. They were yelling angrily in a language you couldn't understand, but it sounded a bit like Japanese?

If they don't see me, maybe I can escape , you thought to yourself before the figure turned around, and finally they saw you. Your heart was thudding against your chest like rapid drum, rhythmic with fear at what this intruder was doing in your apartment, but there was no time to think as crimson eyes bore down on you like rabid wildfire.

"Ittai nan desuka? Anata wa dare deskuka? Doushita no ?!" (what the hell? Who are you? What did you do?!) The man's voice was raspy and crackled like an open flame, neck muscles bulging as his hands sparked- wait, sparked?!

It was at this point that you screamed.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY APARTMENT YOU FUCKING BURGLAR!" you cried right back at him, shifting in your bed towards the side opposite the intruder. You couldn't breathe, your blood was thumping in your ears, you had no idea what was happening or who this was and, while your brain tried desperately to piece together some logic to the situation, your fight or flight instinct overpowered your sense of observation.

"Mojidōri no seikō wa nani ga okotte iru no?" (what the literal fuck is going on?) The man looked around desperately, almost like he was attempting to figure out where he was, looking between you and the closed bedroom door with teeth bared like a caged animal desperate for escape. Even though fear and the need for self-preservation were top priorities, you couldn't help but notice there was something oddly familiar about him: his features, his blonde hair, his red eyes...? Before you got any farther with your train of thought he rounded on you again with another stream of words you couldn't understand.

You'd never make it to the bedroom door without him catching you, and you were already frozen and that was doing you no favors, so realistically there was only one option: fight.

Summoning all the courage you could muster, your fingers found grip on one of your pillows as you held it over your head. "GET OUT OF MY ROOM YOU PERVERT!!" you yelled before throwing the pillow at the angry-looking stranger. He caught it easily and threw it down in a plume of smoke before yelling at you again with an expressive mix of pissed off and completely confused. "THE FUCK DID I JUST SAY, ASSHOLE, GET OUT!!"

Maybe it was the fact that you looked like a freaked out angry woman on the verge of tears who was about to throw another pillow at him, but the blonde man cautiously stepped away and lunged for your bedroom door handle, flinging it open and walking out into your living room, letting out another incomprehensible yell for good measure. After sliding off the bed and throwing off your covers, you grabbed a pair of discarded shorts on the floor - you lived alone, so why bother wearing pants to bed - and slid onto the carpet to shakily grab the wooden bat, tag still dangling from the handle.

"Holy fuck holy shit what the literal hell is going on..." you mumbled to yourself with trembling lips as you made your way towards the stomping sounds in your apartment. Maybe you could scare him off...but how did he make it into your room, anyway? The guy seemed just as confused as you were, but this was your apartment, and there was no way someone was going to assault you or steal anything if you could help it.

Creeping out of your bedroom, the man in an orange hoodie, black shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes stood with clenched fists in the middle of your living room. He must've heard you, because a second later he rounded on you with hands ready and teeth bared, but his eyes flitted to the bat held above your head and his aggression levels seemed to shift slightly into something else. Since he was standing still and you were now hyper-focused on defending yourself, you got a proper look at his face and physique.

Spikey pale blonde hair sat on his head, which led down into a strong jawline. His bizarre red eyes - contacts maybe - stared at you with disturbing clarity. He was tall and looked well-built, even under his hoodie you could tell he had broad shoulders. Well, he was at least handsome for a weirdo intruder, but you couldn't really think about that now. There was just something so curiously familiar about him, like you'd seen him somewhere before. On the news, maybe? Or, no, that wasn't it-

"Oi! Doko da? Kokae ro!" (Where am I? Answer me!) He yelled, and that's when you noticed his palms sparking. Had...no. No no no ?!

Blonde hair, red eyes, gravelly voice, hands that exploded. "Oh my god..." you managed to squeak out under your breath, backing up slightly while wondering if you were still dreaming. This had to be a dream, right? Yeah, definitely a dream.

"I-I'll call the police!" It seemed like the only logical thing to do in this situation, right? But he couldn't understand you, obviously, and you couldn't understand him, so this seemed like the textbook definition of a stalemate.

The man noticed your slight step back, and seemed to finally understand that you were properly freaked the hell out. His hands stopped sparking and he took a deep breath through his nose without taking his eyes off you before speaking again, his tone the calmest it had been since this disaster started, but that wasn't saying much. "Nihongo wo wakarimasuka ? (you don't understand Japanese, do you?)

Even with a less aggressive stance he still looked intimidating, but not like he was about to murder you in self-defense. You lowered the bat slightly, but made no move to get any closer. An idea hit you, but you were scared to take him out of your sight having no clue what he might do. But standing here like an idiot did you no good, so you really hoped the hand sign for "wait a minute" was universal as you held up a finger while balancing the bat in your other hand. The man looked at you with a confused expression, but didn't make any aggressive moves as you slowly slid back into your bedroom to grab your phone.

The logical and scared part of your brain told you to call the police...but the morbidly curious part told you to get to the bottom of this, because there was absolutely no-fucking-way what you thought was happening could actually be happening...right?

You opened up a translator app on your phone that you'd downloaded a while back to read untranslated manga, and luckily noticed it had a voice option. Cautiously walking back out you observed that the man hadn't moved, but immediately noticed the phone in your hand and eyed it suspiciously as you slowly set it on the back of the couch which acted as a barrier between the two of you before holding the bat with both hands again. Only one way to find out if this worked.

"Who are you?" you asked, loud enough for your phone to pick it up and translate the phrase into Japanese. The man looked surprised, but still made no move to let his guard down completely.

"Who the hell are you ?" he asked, you understanding the robotic voice of the translator as it played it back into your own language. You furrowed your brows, because this was going nowhere again.

"I live here, moron. Why are you in my apartment?" Keeping the topic focused on him, and not you, was ideal. Giving out personal information seemed like a bad idea. As the phone translated he scoffed, looking around once again to take in your very average furniture and simple decorations.

The man seemed just as frustrated with the situation as you were as he answered. "How the hell should I know, idiot? Why don't you speak Japanese?" He was trying to get information out of you, rather than him give up more than he needed. Same tactic, just perfect.

"Because we aren't in Japan," you said as though it should be completely obvious by the language barrier. At this he really did look stunned, but quickly put his defenses back up again. To keep him talking you went ahead and asked another question that you absolutely had to know the answer to. "Why...how do you make sparks with your hands like that?"

It sounded absurd when said aloud, and as your phone translated your odd wording his face contorted into an attempt to stay calm - poorly. "It's my quirk...are you quirkless?" he asked with suspicion.

You almost dropped the bat, but managed to keep your shit together. Quirks?! N-no, there was no way this wasn't a dream. Playing along - or dumb - seemed like a good idea, because if this was who you assumed it might be, making him pissed off was the absolute worst thing to do. "Quirk? What's a quirk?" Luckily your shock managed to translate into complete bewilderment, hiding the fact that you knew what quirks were in a very specific yet highly improbable context.

Unfortunately his attempt at keeping his voice down was wearing thin with every new translated sentence. "What do you mean , what's a quirk?"

Shaking your head was, apparently, the wrong thing to do, because the man's palms sparked loudly as he grunted in palpable frustration, making you jump back and hit the wall. If this was a dream it was frighteningly convincing. Rather than taking a deep breath to calm down like the first time, he stomped around the apartment and found your front door, which led out into the breezeway of your floor. He took one last look at you with a sneer before flicking the lock, opening the door, and slamming it shut behind him.

Letting out a shuddering breath you didn't realize you were holding you slid down the wall onto the floor. "Oh my god oh my god...that's...please be a dream, please be a dream, please be-" A ringing noise made you drop your bat. You realized it was your morning alarm to get ready for work as the familiar tone echoed in your living room. Glancing over towards the front door you stood up and turned off the alarm. "This isn't a dream...what the hell is happening?"

Having no idea if he'd return, you changed into some casual clothes when something on the floor caught your eye. Bending down you realized it was a long body pillow you'd bought earlier this year at a local convention. You expected to see the character on the white pillow case...but now, staring up at you, was a blank piece of fabric.

The illustration was gone, leaving only the pillow behind.

You frantically emailed your boss, telling him you had an unexpected emergency and wouldn't be making it in to work today. Rarely taking days off you hoped this wouldn't cause much of an issue, because there was absolutely no way you could focus on work after the morning you'd dealt with.

The front door remained still and silent as you attempted to calm down. "OK, OK, just chill out, it's fine...you're fine." The distinct noise of your stomach rumbling made you double over on the couch. "Thanks, stress-hunger...I need...pizza..." There were only a few twenty-four hour pizza places around, and normally this sort of pizza emergency was reserved for weekends, but the "fuck it" mentality was overwhelmingly strong right now. "If I tried cooking right now I'd probably start a fire..." You were supposed to go grocery shopping yesterday, but laziness took over so you put it off resulting in hardly any real food in your apartment. With shaking hands and a rapid pulse you managed to tap an order for a large cheese pizza for delivery into the online ordering system.

Hardly a minute later there was a pounding at your door, and though delivery would be fast at this hour, there was zero chance your breakfast stood in the breezeway.

"Fuck, shit! What do I do?!" Hopping off the couch you looked around for the bat, only to realize you'd propped it up against the wall next to your bedroom door and the couch now acted as a barrier, leaving you no time to grab it before the door swung open loudly, making you freeze.

The blonde man took a cautious step into your apartment, and though his posture seemed less aggressive, he still looked like a balloon ready to burst from stress. It didn't lessen how absolutely handsome he was, though. He stared at you with those striking red eyes before following your eye line to the bat against the wall, then back to you. Swallowing the lump in your throat felt about as pleasant as eating a fistful of rocks.

Rather than start yelling, his eye twitched before his hands came up in a typing gesture, and you realized he was probably telling you to take out your phone again so you could talk. Biting your lip nervously you complied, setting the phone on the couch between you once more, only now you'd switched positions with him closer to the front door which sat on the same side as your bedroom.

"I'm not gonna hurt you or anything," he said, probably aware of how nervous you must look considering the stranger that randomly sprung up from your bed was back in your personal space. "Do you have any damn clue why I'm here or how I got here?"

Once the app translated you shook your head once more. "No...sorry. I was literally asleep when you, uh...appeared." At that he ran a hand down his face before clicking his tongue. It was only 9 in the morning and he already seemed exhausted; but then again so were you, so at least you had that in common. "So who are you, anyway? And why shouldn't I call the police?" If he gave you a name - the name you were dying to know - and it confirmed your suspicions, you'd need to keep a cool head, so you concentrated on steeling your expression.

At that he narrowed his eyes, but stood up straight as if he standing in front of a classroom about to give a speech. "Don't call the cops, like I said I'm not gonna do anything. I just want information and to figure out what the fuck is going on." Pausing as if thinking about whether or not he should answer, he finally gave in. "I'm Bakugo Katsuki, a Pro Hero in Japan. Now, your turn to answer questions."

Even though you'd prepared for whatever he might say, the indisputable recognition that the man in front of you was an adult version of your favorite anime and manga character almost made your legs give out and your head spin with how quickly the blood under your skin flooded into your rapidly beating heart. This was like some bizarre fanfic where the highschool girl got transported into her favorite anime world, except reversed: someone from another world got brought to yours. The difference was your world was boring, average, and had nothing extraordinary to speak of. Well, until now, anyway.

"...Pro Hero?" you managed to ask, even though you knew exactly what that meant. "Like, a superhero or something?"

Bakugo - because that was his name, no bullshitting anymore - groaned. "I said I'm asking the questions, now." You were so familiar with the brash and loud boy from the manga that this slightly mellowed-out adult version was almost jarring. It was still definitely him, his explosive anger earlier proved that, but maybe as he'd aged - he looked about mid 20's, same as you - Bakugo finally got a handle on his emotions. "Who the hell are you?"

You debated giving a fake name, but what good would that do? He didn't know you like you knew him, so lying and possibly keeping up the lie for however long he was here would be difficult. "I'm (y/n) and I...work in an office. And I don't have superpowers." You added on the last bit trying to be funny, but he didn't laugh.

"My quirk isn't a superpower, it's not damn magic," he quipped back while folding his arms. "Walking around outside...seems like you're right saying no one here has quirks, and we aren't in Japan."

Still trying to get a grip on everything that was happening and not wanting to reveal too much, you kept questions and answers vague but probing. "So, what does that mean for you? How did you get here?"

A sound close to a growl echoed in his throat; maybe probing with too many questions he might not know the answer to wasn't the best strategy. "That's what I'm trying to figure the hell out!"

Once your phone translated your mouth formed a tight line. Sure, this was Bakugo Katsuki - the hot adult version - standing in your living room with a pissed off expression, but you weren't going to put up with an attitude when this wasn't your fault, and you knew the exact same amount of information about the situation than he did. "Look, I didn't have anything to do with this so don't get mad at me. I called out of work because some strange guy appeared in my bedroom who has sparkler hands and says he's from another fucking universe or something so watch the attitude!"

Maybe you were talking too fast for your phone to translate properly, or expressing something other than fear and confusion caught him off guard, but Bakugo stilled if just for a moment. Before he could speak, however, there was yet another knock on your door. He immediately spun around, hands up at the ready, before turning back on you with narrowed eyes full of suspicion.

"Don't move," you said while trying to match his piercing stare, but admittedly his glare was just as intimidating in real life as it was in the anime. Slowly you scooted towards the front door, eyes lingering on him until you had to look away to answer the door.

Immediately the smell of hot pizza hit your nose as the delivery man greeted you. "Just sign this please...perfect. Have a good one!" With that he walked off, leaving you with a warm cardboard box.

As you walked into your small kitchen Bakugo watched you carefully, eyeing the box as if it'd personally offended him...until you watched him sniff the air and saw his guard drop slightly. You were too hungry and mentally worn down to focus on anything other than grabbing a plate from the cabinet and load it up with a couple slices of cheese pizza. Without saying anything you walked over to grab your phone from the couch and set it down on the counter between the two of you once more and just stared at him with tired eyes as you took a bite.

"What? Got a problem with pizza for breakfast?" you asked as he continued to stare at you like a crazy person. "You've had plenty of chances to hurt me or rob me or whatever at this point, so the fact you haven't tells me you probably aren't bad."

"Of course I'm not bad, I said I'm a fucking hero didn't I?" he spat back at you.

You took another bite of pizza before speaking. "You still haven't explained what that means. Your definition of 'hero' might be different from the one here." Technically, it was true. Heroes here were paramedics and firefighters, not people with quirks or powers. The best course of action, you assumed, was to continue acting ignorant. Though you let your guard down a bit, sitting down at the table and feeling too vulnerable still seemed like a bad choice, so instead you just stood at the counter and ate your cheesy breakfast pizza without shame.

At that revelation Bakugo crossed his arms as if to silently concede your point. He was the outsider in this situation, and creating unnecessary animosity wouldn't get him answers. "Heroes fight villains, save people, and win fights. Any more dumb questions?"

The "win fights" bit reminded you exactly who you were talking to, but the "save people" addition meant he'd finally overcome the roadblocks holding him back depicted in manga.

... Holy shit an anime character was in your living room. You were sure it'd take you the rest of the day, maybe longer, to really let that sink in.

You did have more questions, so since he opened up the floor, you walked in. "Yeah, actually. How do you get back home?"

He issued a low growl, signaling you'd hit a sore spot. "I. don't. Know." he answered slowly. "If I knew I wouldn't still be stuck in this shithole."

Bakugo's attitude was starting to make him look less attractive by the minute. After finishing the first slice of pizza you gave him a tired glare. "I was going to offer you pizza as a kind of truce, but not if you call my apartment a shithole," you quipped before closing the cardboard box.

"Who wants your fucking pizza?!" he yelled with frustration mirroring earlier this morning, which made you jump back a bit. Despite you knowing who he was, this version of Bakugo was older and undoubtedly even stronger than he is in the source material...meaning making him mad was still a dangerous thing to be wary of. He must've noticed your step, because he took a deep breath through his nose before speaking again. "I'm even less happy about this this as you are, so just...let me fucking think for a minute."

While pacing across the carpet of your living room floor, you tried not to stare at the tall man with a chiseled face and broad shoulders and pale blonde hair and piercing eyes. He was, probably - no, definitely - the most handsome man you'd ever seen in person. As in, ridiculously good-looking. Getting caught up in that fact seemed risky, though, when he was just about ready to snap if you said something that pissed him off. There were a lot of precarious things to keep in mind right now, and all of them mixed together made your head spin. Instead you bit into your second slice of pizza and remained silent while you tried to figure out what the hell to do from your end of things.

"Maybe if you replay what you were doing when, uh, this happened we could figure it out," you called across the room, halfway wanting to break the awkward silence and halfway wanting to help figure out what was going on. Bakugo stopped walking to glare at you once the phone was done translating.

"I don't need your help." You couldn't deny how much the words stung; you were just trying to cooperate, and you figured two people solving a problem would be better than one...but this was Bakugo Katsuki after all, and his determination to do things on his own must still be going strong, even into adulthood.

Leaning against the fridge you watched him continue pacing, a hand roaming to a back pocket in his jeans before he stopped, feeling around for something that seemed to be missing. Muttering something under his breath, too low for your phone to pick up, he looked around the floor before barging into your bedroom.

"Hey! The hell? I didn't say you could go in there!" you yelled before grabbing your phone and walking around the couch to stand in the doorway of your room. Bakugo bent down onto the floor and looked under your bed and nearly crawled under it. He tossed your pillow which usually bore his likeness off to the side. You'd bought the thing on a whim because it was so over the top, but now you felt your ears burn in embarrassment at the idea. "Get out of my room!"

"Where the FUCK is my wallet?!" Sliding out from under your bed he palmed his pockets again before glaring up at you.

"I don't have it, if that's what that look is for," you shot back while staring down at him on the floor.

He stood up while running a hand down his face in obvious frustration. "Can't fucking believe this shit..."

"If you're going to pout, do it somewhere other than my room."

"Why, got something to hide?" he asked with a suspicious tone. Your ears burned once again, but you wanted to drive the point home.

"It's my bedroom, pervert, and I don't want random people from other dimensions going through my stuff!" Once the robotic voice on your phone translated you actually saw his eyes widen just a fraction before looking almost a bit flustered himself.

"I'm not a pervert!"

"Then get out of my room!" you emphasized before raising your arm and pointing out into the living room. Without an argument, for once, he came forward and you backed up to let him through as he stomped into the kitchen, opened up the cardboard box, and grabbed a piece of pizza he tore into it. You weren't the type of person to let people walk all over you, and you weren't about to let Bakugo be the exception. A headache was just about on it's way and you had to sigh. Closing your bedroom door you watched him devour the pizza like he was defeating a villain high in carbs. It was difficult not to laugh, honestly.

Instead you walked over and leaned against the arm of the couch, not wanting to invade his space too much. This was still an absolutely ridiculous and unimaginable thing to have happen...but you were sure by now this wasn't a dream, and you were very much awake.

Deciding to go about this a different way, you worded your next sentences very carefully. "So you can't find your wallet, which I assume would have an ID in it, and money, too? You don't speak the predominant language here...and as of right now, you don't know how to get back to your own world. Did I miss anything?"

Bakugo crossed his arms and sneered at you. "Pointing out the obvious there, huh?"

"I'm just laying out my observations so far," you said, spreading your arms out wide. His lack of cooperation was grating on your nerves. If he wanted to get home, he might have to give in just a little. "What's your plan then, genius?"

"I wait it out," he answered. When you gave him a confused look he rolled his eyes. "Obviously a quirk - probably from some dumb villain trying to get rid of me - sent me here. It'll wear off eventually and I'll be back home, no fucking problem." He stated it so matter-of-factly, but you weren't completely sold on him believing his own words.

"Wait it out," you repeated slowly. "And where do you expect to do that? What if you're stuck here for more than a day?"

It was a question that sprung into your mind. He didn't know how to get back, and there were obviously no quirk users on his end of the world to help him out. He'd walked outside to judge the honesty of your word on quirks, only to come right back here. Where else was he going to go, after all?

His mouth formed a tight line before clicking his tongue and glancing briefly at your closed front door. "Why the hell do you care? I'll figure it out, I don't need a damn babysitter."

"No, but you might need a chaperone or something. You have no money for food, no place to stay, can't-"

"Shut up!" he said, slamming his hands on the counter, not bothering to let the translator finish. "Just shut up! I don't want your help!"

Gasping at his sudden outburst you tried to back up, only to run into the couch behind you and promptly bust your ass on the floor. Before he exploded at you again - or he saw you finally start to cry from being legitimately scared - you picked yourself up and ran into the bathroom, locking yourself in.

"Please don't break down the door..." you said, turning on the faucet to splash some water on your face in an attempt to calm down. "Maybe I should have called the cops...he's...dangerous, right?" It was the most logical thing to do, but you'd been so caught off-guard by having a literal manga character in your apartment that your curiosity outweighed rationality. It's then that you realized you must've dropped your phone on the floor when you fell. Now you really did feel like crying. "What am I going to do? What's the right thing to do?"

After a few minutes you gathered yourself together, determined not to let him get to you. From what you knew of his character and personality in the source material, he was the type of person to lash out or bottle things up rather than talk through things civilly if he felt cornered or overwhelmed. Being accusatory didn't seem to work out so well, so instead it might be best to just let him talk when - or if - he wanted to.

Taking a deep breath you opened the door, hoping that he might've calmed down a bit. Looking around you saw Bakugo leaning up against the wall, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans before looking at you with an unreadable expression. He gestured vaguely to the kitchen counter where your phone now sat. Walking over you opened back up the app, set the phone down, and stood by awkwardly as you waited to see what he might do or say next.

"Look," he said, catching your attention. "I wanna be here about as much as you want me here. Right now, I don't have a solution to fix this mess." Pausing, he seemed to be gathering his thoughts before speaking again. "I know this was caused by another quirk, no other explanation. I don't know how to reverse it or how long I'll be stuck here. Ideally, this will last twenty-four hours and I'll wake up back where I'm supposed to be where I can kick the villain's ass that sent me here."

Processing his words you nodded in understanding. "OK...that's still a day that you're here. Do you have a plan?"

Bakugo seethed through his nose, agitated with your continuing questions to things he had no solid answers for. "I'm going off the assumption that, even if you don't realize it, you're somehow connected to this. So, I don't think it's in my best interest to wander too far away."

Your brows furrowed before shooting nearly up to your hairline at the implication. "Me?!" you exclaimed, pointing to yourself. "Are you inviting yourself to stay here or something? I mean, no offense, but I'm just taking your word for it that you're not secretly a bad person." Even though the idea of him basically being a temporary guest made your pulse race, you still needed to put up the front of not being able to take his claims of being a hero at face value. "And you just said you didn't want my help. So which is it?"

He looked genuinely offended at your connotation that he was anything other than a morally righteous hero, but couldn't really doubt your apprehension considering the situation. "I don't want your help...and I fucking hate being wrong about anything, because I rarely am." His attitude of superiority finally showed it's head. "But I'll also admit that I have jack shit here. Best case scenario is I'm here for a single day, then I'm out of your hair. If you really want me gone, I won't stop you from booting me out. Like I said, I'll figure it out."

The idea of him sleeping outside and not having any food for a whole day was a painful thought. You considered yourself an empathetic person and tried to help people when you could, and even though this circumstance was completely absurd, he still needed help, right? Still, you decided to drag things out a bit. "Give me some time to think about it and I'll give you an answer."

Shrugging, you saw the tiredness of the situation on his handsome features again. "Do you...have a restroom?"

Nodding, you pointed back towards the door you just came out of. Bakugo stepped past you and disappeared behind the closed door.

"Oh my god he's using my bathroom...now I'm really glad I cleaned over the weekend," you muttered to yourself. Living alone you were sometimes lazy with cleaning, but the aesthetics of a tidy apartment outweighed stepping over dirty laundry or dishes sitting in the sink.

Not knowing what else to do you grabbed the pizza box and slid it into the fridge, but not before noticing he'd taken another slice while you weren't looking. Most of the shelves were fairly bare except for some leftovers, milk, condiments, and a few other things. Yeah, you really needed to go grocery shopping, but was that the best idea with Bakugo here? Was it safe to leave him here? Should he come with you? Stuffing those questions away for later you grabbed your plate and started washing off the pizza crumbs in the sink before hearing the bathroom door open.

Bakugo stopped around the corner to watch you set the dish in the drying rack. He said something you couldn't understand while pointing back at your bathroom with an odd look. Drying your hands you grabbed the phone from the other end of the counter and set it between the two of you so it could actually pick up the conversation.

He clicked his tongue, annoyed at the language barrier, but it was better than not being able to communicate at all. "Your bathroom is weird."

Your mouth hung open, looking between Bakugo and your bathroom. It was perfectly normal! Maybe a bit small since it was just a one bedroom apartment, but there was nothing wrong with it. "How is it weird?"

"Just set up differently than Japanese bathrooms. It's weird," he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, pretty much all bathrooms here look like that, so deal with it." You swore you saw his eye twitch, and again it was hard not to crack a small smile. It was probably hazardous to your health to put up too much of an attitude, but you couldn't hide your personality completely.

Sinking down into the couch cushions with a bit of caution and a glance in your direction, you watched the smallest bit of tension ease from his shoulders before he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Yeah, it was only about ten thirty in the morning and this day already felt too long, so you shared the sentiment.

The awkward silence that passed over the next couple of hours was broken only when you attempted to ask him questions about his world, only for him to brush it off with annoyed sneer.

"None of your business."

"Why do you care?"

"The hell are you so nosy for?"

"Go away!"

Eventually you took the hint that he wanted to be left alone - probably still trying to figure out some way to get back home from this end - so you went to your bedroom and closed the door. Now that you were alone, you attempted to process your own racing thoughts.

Bakugo Katsuki, a manga character that should not exist, was currently sitting in your living room. Not only that, but he was clearly an adult now, so in his own universe he existed as a real Pro Hero...meaning he'd realized his dream within the story. His hard work and dedication paid off, and that honestly made you smile.

Despite his gruff and rude personality, you'd always been drawn to him in the story. Sure, he was a shitty kid in the beginning and had a lot of lessons to learn, but as you read the manga chapters and watched the anime, his personal growth and character development bloomed. Bakugo was nuanced and complicated, and at times you just wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and say "you've done well, now take a nap you little gremlin."

However, the man sitting in your living room was no longer a teenager, but an adult, and though you'd observed hints of his personality, you still had basically no clue how different he was from his teenage self. It seemed as though he could at least keep a slightly more level head now considering he hasn't blown up your apartment, though his temper and annoyance with people was still noticeably intact. Could you really blame him though, considering the circumstances? If your life was upended by being tossed into another universe, you'd be pretty annoyed - if not scared - as well.

A rapping at your door jarred you out of your thoughts. "Uh, come in," you called out though you didn't have the translator app open yet. He must've understood that it was alright to open the door from your tone though, since he turned the knob and stood in your doorway.

"I need information," he practically demanded, as if you had more answers than he did. "Do you have internet here?"

"Yeah...why?"

"I want to know if I'm the only one from my universe dealing with this shit, or if other Heroes also got transported." You nodded in understanding. The thought hadn't occurred to you that he might not be the only one a villain attacked.

"Alright, well, tell me what to search for? Also, consider the fact that I guess, besides me, no one here knows who you are or about your...quirk." Dragging out the last word seemed like a good idea, not wanting to let him know you were already familiar enough with the term to use it conversationally with confidence.

An annoyed look crossed his face; maybe he was used to people doing what he said without much pushback, but you weren't someone to be pushed around. "Just do it. Look for any instances of weird shit happening, news articles popping up, whatever. Use some common sense." Without elaborating further he stomped back out of your line of sight.

Groaning a bit, you dipped off your bed and pulled out a laptop nestled in a bag by your closet. Your phone was fine for most things, but you could do things a bit faster on an actual computer. Following his vague advice, you searched for anything that might pull up a hit. Unfortunately, keywords like "superpowers" and "bizarre sighting" only turned up popular TV and movie characters. From what you could tell, no one had reported on anyone else being found to come from another universe. "He's not gonna be happy about that..."

Walking out of your room Bakugo caught your eye as he stood stiffly in the kitchen. He must've rummaged through your cabinets without asking judging by the glass of water in his hand. Staring at him proved far too easy, but you managed to snap out of it when he glanced at you with his mouth drawn into a tight line.

"Well? Spit it out." Though he was asking a question, you suspected he probably already knew the answer.

You shook your head and attempted to look apologetic. "No, sorry. I searched for anything I could think of, but honestly half the results were movie trailers or conspiracy theory articles...I even looked on some local forums and if anyone's seen anything or anyone that stands out, it would've been there."

As you spoke Bakugo stood absolutely still, probably in an attempt to stay calm and not blow up - maybe literally - at the news that he was, most likely, the only one currently dealing with this shitty situation.

"Maybe there's someone in another location? Um, I mean if anyone with powers is seen in public I think videos or pictures would go viral pretty quickly..." It felt like rambling at this point, but the fact that he wasn't reacting was honestly making you nervous. Was he about to snap? Yell? Break something? Reactionary and over the top were traits most people associated with Bakugo's character, so the odd silence made you tense.

"Do I scare you?" The question caught you off-guard, not expecting such a severe shift in subject. His crimson eyes stared you down intensely while he leaned against the counter, but it didn't feel predatory or hostile...it was more like he was trying to gauge whether or not you were mildly trustworthy with your answer.

Lying to him now meant playing a risky game, so this time honesty seemed like the best policy. "I mean, I was obviously freaked out earlier? I think anyone would be in my situation." You watched his eyes dart to the side where, somewhere behind you, the bat leaned against the wall. "But like I said, if you wanted to hurt me you've had plenty of chances..."

Remaining calm during frustrating situations didn't appear to be one of his strongest attributes. "If I blew up this place I'd be stuck with even less than I have now, which is basically nothing useful," he answered with jaw tense and hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. "So? You kicking me out or not?"

You wrung your hands together from nerves bubbling up in your system before letting out a sigh. It was hardly early afternoon and you already felt exhausted. "No...then I'd be the asshole. You're lucky I don't have a roommate or anything because I have no clue how I'd explain this. But, uh...yeah. For a day or however long you're stuck here, I won't let you sleep outside at least."

He looked as though he was about to say something, then diverted his train of thought to something else. "I won't blow anything up."

"If you do, then I really will kick you out. Also, some ground rules," you said, holding up a hand ready to count off on your fingers. The throbbing vein in his temple was nearly pulsating. "If you make a mess, please clean it up. Two," you said, holding up a second finger, "you can sleep on the couch. It's all I've got, so arguing is pretty pointless. And three...I have to go grocery shopping today, and you're coming with me."

At this he nearly balked. "The fuck? Why?"

"No offense, but I don't want to just leave you here. If, despite what you think, you're not gone tomorrow...maybe it's best to at least familiarize yourself with the area? And I really doubt you wanna use my soap and shampoo and stuff, anyway. So, we can just buy you your own." The idea of taking Bakugo grocery shopping just came to you in the moment, but really it was the most logical thing to do, right? Shopping with him...you forced yourself to keep composure or else risk him seeing your ears turn red.

"I don't need a babysitter!" he spat, but you were ready for him to fight you on this and didn't want to back down this time.

"Either you come with me or I won't help you. Also, I imagine you don't wanna eat pizza for lunch and dinner, and I don't know what you like, so if you go you can pick out something that might be familiar to you." That was the best explanation you could give that made any sense, and even then you could feel a headache starting to form. You heard him mutter under his breath low enough for your phone not to pick it up, but you assumed it was just more grumbling.

His foot tapped on the ground, the sound muffled by the carpet under his shoes. "Fine," he finally answered, not bothering to hide his suspicion about the situation.

This was going to be a difficult grocery trip. "Give me a minute and we can go," you groaned, heading into the bathroom to freshen up so you were mildly presentable going out in public. A ridiculously hot guy who, before now, only existed within a manga and anime format was currently in your apartment waiting for you to take him grocery shopping like some kind of bizarre, overly-domestic dream...so you couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious about wanting to look decently put-together. After brushing your hair, brushing your teeth, and putting on some mascara you looked at yourself in the mirror. You never thought of yourself as ugly or particularly boring-looking, but compared to Bakugo your ego deflated a bit. It wasn't as though he'd look at you like that, anyway; you didn't have a quirk, you weren't a fighter, and you always assumed Bakugo naturally gravitated and respected people who were strong and capable. Anyway, your main goal was getting through the rest of the day without him blowing up anything, and you'd deal with his attitude later.

Coming out of the bathroom Bakugo stood almost exactly where you left him, eyeing you with impatience. Letting him intimidate you now would mean he'd step all over you later, so you grabbed your keys, sunglasses, and purse before walking towards the door. "Coming?" you asked while you opened the door he left unlocked earlier. With a grumble Bakugo followed you out the door and into the parking lot.

The grocery store was honestly close enough to walk to, which on any other day you might prefer if the weather was nice. Now, however, you knew carrying food for two people would be too much for you to handle on your own, and Bakugo didn't appear to be in a particularly hospitable mood. So, driving was the next best option.

He followed at a safe distance, watching you point the key fob towards your car. It wasn't particularly new, but not old enough to need constant maintenance, either. Opening up the driver's side door you looked back to see him standing still, apparently wary of something as mundane as driving.

You gestured towards the car, but he didn't move, probably doing some mental gymnastics of all the ways he could escape out of a moving car. After a full minute you threw your hands up in the air and got into the car, letting your head rest on the steering wheel. "Am I really sure today isn't a lucid dream?"

After another minute you heard the back door on the opposite side open and close, seeing Bakugo finally get in before slamming the door unnecessarily hard. Setting your phone up in the holder you normally used it for directions or music, you instead just opened back up the translator app. "I just need food and some other things. You don't have to talk to me for the rest of the day of you don't want to...and, no offense, this isn't how I wanted to spend my day, either."

"How do I know you're not a shit driver and will crash us both?" was all he said in return, ignoring your implied quip about his justifiably sour attitude.

"Why would I crash my own car? It's not even paid off yet. Also, I've never been in a wreck, I'll have you know." Now he was just finding things to complain about. Glancing up into your rear-view mirror you saw Bakugo's eyes dart around as you drove, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings while looking ready to hop out the window if necessary. Instead of thinking about how an angry Bakugo Katsuki sat in the backseat of your car, you focused your attention on getting to the grocery store without drama.It proved difficult because of your absolute disdain for terrible drivers, and keeping your normal road rage contained took more effort than you were openly willing to admit. Anger probably riled Bakugo up, and that's exactly what you wanted to avoid.

After finally finding a parking spot you got out and started walking up to the store, glancing back to see Bakugo, once again, keeping his distance. The sooner you could get this incredibly awkward excursion out of the way, the better.

Grabbing a cart you waited for him, watching his eyes shift around warily at the innocent lobby of the grocery store. Taking out your phone you opened back up the translator app. If this kept up, you might need to look for a better app or pay a little for the fancy version. "Alright, here's the plan," you said as he drew closer, head snapping back in your direction. "I buy what I want, and you pick out what you want or need, no issues. As a precaution...and the fact that I hate grocery shopping...get enough to last like, a week. Just in case!" You added the last bit at seeing his eyes widen at the idea he'd be stuck here more than a few days, hands going up defensively.

Maybe he was tired of arguing, or maybe he just hated grocery shopping just as much as you, but with nothing else to do he gave in. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with," he bit out before walking past you onto the main grocery floor. You made a mental note to pick up some aspirin before wheeling the cart around to follow Bakugo into the store.

Working from one side of the store to the other, you tried to make this as painless as possible but Bakugo wasn't exactly the easiest person to shop with. For one, since none of the labels were in Japanese, he had to ask what things were outside of immediately obvious vegetables, rice, meat, etc. He became agitated at a lack of certain things he wanted, foods and spices common in Japan that weren't available here. You silently compared his food choices to yours: he ate healthier than you did, picking fewer snacks and easy to prepare frozen foods and instead going for fresher options for more well-balanced meals. When you picked up a box of your favorite cookies, you swore he cut his eyes a little too sarcastically in your direction. Curbing your eating habits and foregoing sweets wasn't something you'd let him nag you about. More cookies for you, at least.

At one point you came to an aisle with condiments, Bakugo pausing in front of the wall littered with various bottles of spicy sauces. Some of the bottles had skulls on them, others had flames, and one in particular sported an illustration of a gravestone.

"Which one's the hottest?" he asked, assuming what the bottles were based on the label designs. You scrunched your nose up, not being very fond of spicy foods yourself.

"Uh, I'm not sure..." you said, scanning the bottles before noticing a familiar brand. "Oh! I think I've seen a coworker talk about this one. He likes spicy stuff, I don't, so he'd know better than I would." You grabbed the bottle - aware of how close you were to him since he didn't bother moving out of the way - to read the ingredients on the back, noting the different types of peppers used. "Yeah, this seems pretty spicy."

Bakugo scoffed before grabbing the bottle from your hand and putting it into the cart. "I like spicy food," he stated as if challenging you to put it back on the shelf before turning and walking around the corner to the next aisle. This told you the notes in the manga were right about his food preferences. As long as he didn't make you eat anything he made, there wouldn't be an issue.

The last section you skimmed through was personal hygiene: body wash, soap, shampoo, etc. All this time you couldn't help but notice that while Bakugo's hair kept the signature spiky appearance from the source material, it didn't look plastered with product or damage...it looked soft. You desperately shoved ideas of running your hands through his hair far far away before your ears visibly burned.

He seemed particular about smells, sniffing every bottle he picked out and turning his nose up at most of them until he found something tolerable. "What are you gonna do with all this shit when I'm gone?" he asked suddenly.

"Huh? Oh, well besides the hot sauce I'll just eat the food, I'm not picky. And there are places that take donations like soap and shampoo, hygiene products, stuff like that. There are probably some shelters nearby, too." He'd just arrived here this morning, but of course all he probably thought about was when, and how, to get back to his own world. The only reason he was here stemmed from pure necessity: dealing with you seemed like the best option, far better than sleeping outside without food or a bathroom, at least. If he disappeared tomorrow, you'd have the items in your cart to prove today wasn't some fluke lucid dream.

After the longest grocery trip you'd endured in quite a while, you paid at the register - it was about twice as much as your usual grocery amount, which you anticipated since you only ever shopped for yourself - and wheeled the cart out to the car. Over the last hour Bakugo seemed to become just slightly more comfortable, but the skeptically critical glint never left his crimson eyes.

While wheeling the cart out to the car, mental exhaustion hit you once again...and the day wasn't close to over yet. You popped open the trunk and started piling in bags, and were surprised to see Bakugo actually help - he had far less trouble lifting the heavier bags than you normally did - before you wheeled the cart into one of those cart corrals that sat in the parking lot. Bakugo waited for you to sit in the driver's seat before, once again, showing preference for the back.

Once again the drive back home was silent, though at one point some moron cut you off without using a blinker, prompting you to flick him off through your windshield with mild enthusiasm. Glancing up at the rear view mirror you swore Bakugo wore a look mirroring curious interest rather than is so-far-normal moody disdain for everything happening around him, but the expression dropped quickly once he realized you were watching.

Arriving back to the apartment normally gave you a sense of relief, but now a bit of dread started to sink in: you still had no idea how to really handle the situation, but you needed to figure out quickly to avoid any exploded furniture. You took a deep breath before getting out of the car and popping open the trunk to take things inside. After a second Bakugo stepped out of the car, looked at you before rolling his eyes, and grabbed half the bags before waiting on you with an impatient tapping foot. Rather than waste this rare opportunity of generosity, you hurried along with your own bags and walked up the stairs to your apartment, fumbling with the keys a bit before opening the door and walking inside.

After setting the bags down on the floor you took out your phone and opened back up the app before turning around to see Bakugo dropping his own bags. He then returned to the slightly annoyed look he'd been wearing for the past few hours. Once again you had to stop yourself from staring; even angry he was attractive. "Thanks for helping. I can put everything away, I know where it all goes." He hesitated before sitting down on the couch and appearing lost in thought.

Despite the literally explosive personality depicted in the source material and the screaming match from this morning, you observed that Bakugo seemed oddly content with silence - which you appreciated. Not wanting to break his train of thought, which you assumed comprised of thinking up ways of getting back to his own universe, you quietly put away the groceries. You attempted to separate out a section in the fridge, freezer, and pantry for the things he picked out to make things easier. The remaining bag held toiletries which you toted into the bathroom before placing everything away, pausing while grabbing the soaps and things Bakugo chose.

"Oh...he has to shower in here, doesn't he," you whispered to yourself while feeling your cheeks burn. "I haven't even showered today, god..." Now was definitely not the time to get flustered, not with Bakugo right outside the door. Instead you quickly organized the shelf hanging from the shower head, took a deep breath to compose yourself, and walked back into the living room.

Bakugo hadn't moved from his spot on the couch, but his eyes were trained on you, making you squirm in your socks. He had this way of staring that made you feel analyzed, like he was watching for you to slip up or spill some hidden information you were hiding. He wouldn't get the satisfaction, because the only thing you were hiding was the fact that he existed in your world as a manga character, and letting that information out seemed like the opposite of a smart idea.

Maybe it was the grocery shopping, or the fact that you hadn't eaten anything besides pizza in hours, but a hunger suddenly overcame you. Holding your phone you walked towards the handsome man sitting on your couch. "I'm gonna make lunch for myself. You can fix whatever you want if you're hungry." Something simple and requiring little effort like a sandwich sounded fine, but you weren't about to resort to making him one and possibly boil yourself down to a sexist joke of making a guy a sandwich.

Pulling out some things from the fridge and bread from the cabinet you ended up with a decent-looking lunch. Nothing fancy, but at least it looked appetizing. You were about to put a jar back in the fridge when it was suddenly ripped from your hand, making you think you dropped it at first. "Huh? What..?"

It was then you realized Bakugo stood behind you, jar in his palm, and looked at you with a quirked brow. Apparently you weren't the only one who was hungry. Clearing your throat and scooting out of the way you grabbed your sandwich and a glass of water before sitting down at the table.

Occasionally you glanced up to try and see what he was making, but every time he caught you embarrassment controlled your neck muscles and forced your head quickly in the opposite direction. You could feel his eyes on the back of your head when you realized he wasn't going to sit at the table with you and eat, instead preferring to stand at the counter. When you were finished you stood up and moved carefully around him to wash your dishes before silently heading into your room and closing the door.

With a sigh you buried your face in the comforter of your bed, a hundred thoughts running through your mind. "OK, it's late afternoon now, so what do I do? If he doesn't wanna talk I can't make him talk...but maybe just being nice will be enough? I'll go crazy if I don't find out more about him and his universe before he's gone! Goal set!" With new energy you dug into your dresser for some clean pajamas - pants and an oversized shirt should be fine - and came out of your room to see Bakugo leaning against the counter with arms crossed, red eyes immediately darting to you.

Still careful not to invade his personal space you grabbed your phone next to him. "I'll be done in a bit," you said, pointing to the bathroom. He just shrugged his shoulders, which you took to mean he still wasn't in a talkative mood. You closed the bathroom door behind you and turned on the shower to the hottest setting, letting yourself relax properly for the first time that day.

The water eased your tense shoulders, but your mind still raced. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?! Bakugo Katsuki is in my living room, quirks are real, and he's pretty much invited himself to stay here until he's able to go back home," you echoed to yourself in the acoustics of the shower. Maybe you could ask him to play video games or something? You remembered a brief moment in the manga where he mentioned some gaming terms, so maybe you could connect with him on that and pass some time as well. He was competitive, so if you put him in a good mood by letting him win, he might be willing to loosen his lips about some information. "Lips...oh, oh no." Now all you had to do was keep from acting like a moron in front of, probably, the hottest guy you'd ever seen in person.

There was one more thing you needed to get him to talk about, though: what to do if he didn't disappear tomorrow. After turning off the water you changed into clean pajamas and looked at yourself in the foggy bathroom mirror, nodded to yourself in preparation of dealing with Bakugo outside, and opened the door.

Rather than leaning against the counter he sat on the couch, foot tapping rapidly on the ground with obvious frustration at his current predicament. You looked at him briefly before walking into your room and dumping your dirty clothes into the laundry basket. "Alright, let's see what happens," you said under your breath before walking back out and standing in front of him with your phone in your hands.

He furrowed his brows, as if asking you to move from in front of the blank TV screen so he could continue watching an imaginary show. "What?"

"So, if I'm going to let you stay here until you're able to go back to your universe, you gotta level with me a bit." Bakugo scoffed, but didn't interrupt as the phone translated. "If you're still here tomorrow - not ideal, I know - " you added quickly, seeing his face contort, "do you have a plan? I can't take off work two days in a row, so you could just...hang out here I guess, if you promise not to blow anything up."

He crossed his arms with obvious annoyance. "You think I can't control my own quirk as a professional hero? The only things I blow up are villains. And I don't really have any damn choice but to stick around if that shitty situation comes up, do I? No I.D., no money, nowhere else to stay, I can't fucking talk to anyone...did I miss anything?" Counting off on one of his hands his sarcasm was palpable, making you groan.

"Alright, smartass, got it." OK, that didn't go as terribly as you thought it might. Now, phase two. "Do you like video games?"

A look of confusion replaced the one of annoyance. "The hell does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm trying to pass the time. You can keep brooding if you want, but I'm not gonna let you sour my mood. Think about it this way: the more time that passes, the sooner you can fall asleep, and the sooner you can wake up to possibly be back home." Your far-reaching logic seemed to have an effect as you watched the mental gears turning in his head, debating on whether or not to openly agree with you.

"Fine. Don't complain when you lose. The hell kinda games you have, anyway? I bet they're all shit..." So far, so good! You grabbed the controllers and sat down on the couch, watching him sift through the games on your TV stand. Something seemed to stand out to him as he pulled it out with a grin. "Your collection isn't total garbage, and somehow they overlap into my world," he called over his shoulder. "I'm real good at this one."

Figures the one he held up was one you were particularly bad at, even though it was still fun. Console controls were also fairly universal, so he had no trouble plugging in the game. Before he sat down, though, Bakugo unzipped the orange hoodie he'd been wearing all day and tossed it off to the side, rolling his broad shoulders as if preparing for a fight.

Below the sleeves of his black shirt you now stared at his arms, lean but still strong and muscular. He needed powerful arm muscles to control his quirk, no doubt. What really caught your attention, though, were the faint scars dotted from his forearms up past the hem of his sleeves. Some were long, others were short and wide; some looked fairly new and others looked faded and healed over. He caught you staring and you quickly swiveled your head away in embarrassment.

"Um, sorry! I didn't expect...nevermind." You were sure you sounded like a moron, but surprisingly he didn't chastise you.

"I said I was a hero, didn't I? Wasn't a damn lie. Scars are part of the job." Feeling the couch dip at the other end you took that as a sign that he wasn't angry. Maybe people stared often, but you weren't about to ask about scar origin stories just yet.

Following the prompts on the screen you both picked out your characters - luckily he didn't pick the one you were best with - before watching the countdown numbers flash on screen to the start of the fight.

Once "FIGHT!" appeared in the middle of the TV, Bakugo's character did some super move that almost immediately took a third of your own character's health. "What?!" you screeched at the sudden attack. Apparently your misery was his pleasure, but hardly a minute later Bakugo emerged victorious.

"You are shit at this," he mocked. Looking over, though, you saw the faint glimpse of the first smile he'd worn all day, and damn if it wasn't a nice look on him. You weren't losing on purpose, but keeping him in a good mood remained the goal.

"Shut up, I just need to warm up, first." After another round you did a bit better, but still lost quickly. The third round made Bakugo the victor once again, and he actually let out a laugh. Now you were the annoyed one. "OK, pick new characters!"

"That won't help you." As if to further agitate you he purposefully picked a character that was known to be mediocre at best. You picked another one you were halfway decent with, and started the match.

Once again, he kicked your ass with only a little more difficulty this time. Over the next half hour this continued: he would win, then laugh, you'd groan and smash buttons before going and picking a new character, and the cycle would repeat. Your frustrations turned into his source of joy and, although you were glad for the mood shift, losing every single match grated on your nerves enough to warrant a new strategy. "Alright! New game!" you shouted while tossing your controller onto the couch when Bakugo's character stomped yours into a bloody pulp.

"Sore loser," he scoffed, amused at your short temper. Searching through your collection you pulled out a different game and held it up with a questioning look. "The hell is that one?"

"Aha, so not everything crosses over." You replaced the discs before sitting back down on the couch. If he was unfamiliar with the controls and mechanics, it might give you a bit of an unfair advantage.

"Or it could be a shit game so I never bothered with it," he shot back while you went through the starting menu. Sure enough you read the smallest hint of confusion on his face and prepared to possibly win the first match of the night. He wasn't the type to back down from a challenge, however.

When the actual match started you let loose with no mercy, actually managing to K.O. Bakugo's character with little effort. "Tch, pure luck," he reasoned while settling into a more concentrated position with his elbows propped on his knees while staring intently at the TV screen. The controls of this game operated different than the last one, which seemed to throw him off just enough to win the second match.

You laughed while tossing your hands in the air after having finally beaten him at something. His grip on the controller seemed dangerously tense. "Please don't blow up my controller."

"I won't blow anything up," he growled out, the translator only picking up a few of the words through his teeth.

"Do you want me to show you the controls so it's fair?" You really did want to keep him in a good mood, so maybe evening things out would help. Instead he cut his eyes to you before swiftly pulling them back to the TV.

"I don't need your help, just start the next match." Stubbornness wasn't something he aged out of, apparently. Instead you shrugged and pressed on with the next fight. He was getting the hang of it, but you were still kicking his ass when he paused the game this time. "OK fine! All I need is one lesson and I can win."

Ignoring the idea that he could reel in a comeback you scooted a bit closer and explained a couple of the combos that worked for all characters and the button combinations. He only need to hear it once before he unpaused the game and the match ended up in a tie. He grinned while you groaned.

Now that he knew what to do the matches were harder, and he ended up winning the next two despite your best efforts. "You're shit at this," he said while you hung your head in defeat.

"Yeah, well, I don't always play to win, I play because I'm having fun," you said in retort. "I don't have a roommate and playing against the AI can get boring, so honestly I don't mind that much." Maybe Bakugo was used to the people around him being equally as competitive as himself, because he didn't really have a comeback for that. Wanting a break from playing games, you decided to enact the last step in your strategy.

Turning to him slightly while trying not to get distracted by his handsome face, you posed a question. "So...assuming you will be gone tomorrow, are you willing to tell me more about your world now?"

His face dropped and brows furrowed, but he didn't seem as annoyed with the question compared to earlier. "It is obvious my world is way more interesting than this quirkless place." Bakugo drummed his fingers on his jeans before giving you an answer. "If I answer your questions will you stop bugging me?"

You had to contain excitement at getting him to actually open up a bit. "Yes, yes I will. OK, so..."

Launching right in you started with basic questions that you honestly already knew the answers to if the manga proved truthful - which it did. His answers about quirks and heroes fell in line with things you already knew, but hearing his own perspective s was the exciting part. You asked if he had other heroes he ever teamed up with or if he worked on more solo missions. Sure enough he mentioned Kirishima - calling him his "best friend" even - while explaining that few heroes actually worked alone unless the mission called for a specific quirk or set of skills.

Even though you possessed an understanding of Pro Hero work, hearing it straight from him and listening to first-hand details made your excitement genuine. Bakugo assumed you knew nothing about his own universe or how quirks worked, so maybe your undivided attention and him being in control of the conversation kept him talking. You didn't mind.

"So you go to a special school for hero training...does that mean you didn't go to college then? Just straight into hero work?" you asked. He quirked an eyebrow and scuffed.

"The hell would I need college for? I learned everything I needed to know at UA. Anyone who isn't interested in being a Pro Hero can do whatever the hell they want, though," he said before continuing. "I guess you went to school for your 'boring office job'?" The last bit was emphasized with air quotes, pointing to your exact words from this morning.

It was the first time he'd directly asked you about yourself and your life, so you had to gather up your composure at his curiosity before answering. "Uh, yeah. I graduated a couple years ago and moved here for my job. It pays the bills, so I can't complain too much." You shrugged, not really wanting to dig into comparing your very ordinary career with his exciting one. Maybe he picked up on the indifference of your tone, or he didn't care to know anything else about your job, but he didn't ask any more questions.

"Uh, are you hungry for dinner or anything?" The silence felt awkward so, once again, food came to mind in a mild attempt at passing time and trying to find common ground. Besides, a sandwich and two pizza slices didn't exactly comprise a day's worth of well-rounded meals. Rather than answer you Bakugo stood up and walked into the kitchen, pulling out things from the fridge and cabinets. "What are you doing?" you asked, grabbing your phone and walking over.

"Cooking," was all he said. You expected more of an explanation, but he seemed to think the opposite.

"You don't have to, you're sorta a guest, I guess." At that he spun around while holding a bag of rice to look straight at you with those striking red eyes of his. They were more vivid than you imagined they would be, as if light illuminated them from behind like a paper lantern.

"I'm only gonna say this once," he said while holding up a finger for emphasis. "This whole situation sucks, and it pisses me off, but I'm not the type of asshole to ignore the fact that you didn't kick me out despite that being the most common sense thing to do." You were so stunned at his words that his analytical glare passed by without catching on to the hidden reason you kept him around. "So sit down, don't complain, I'm cooking."

Bakugo Katsuki was cooking you dinner - something you'd literally only dreamed of. So, rather than argue about it, you let him have reign over the kitchen. While Bakugo rummaged around to find whatever pots and pans he wanted, you decided to set up the couch in a makeshift bed for him. Friends would sleep over on rare occasions, especially if they'd' had too much to drink and you refused to let them drive home, so you kept spare pillows and blankets lying around.

Looking down at the pillow and folded blanket made you pout. You wish you could do more, but this was all you could settle for with such short notice. Hopefully he wouldn't mind too much - like he said himself, it was better than sleeping outside.

After walking into your room to grab a novel you'd been nursing for a while in your free time, a delicious smell hit your nose. So Bakugo might actually be a good cook! Looking over you couldn't help but take the opportunity to stare a bit. Broad, strong shoulders and long arms; that black shirt clung to his back in just the right spots. He was beyond handsome, honestly. Despite being tossed into unfamiliar territory, he seemed fairly confident and concentrated with whatever he was cooking. Maybe he was using the opportunity as a distraction from the current situation, so rather than bug him you sat down at the small kitchen table your parents gifted you when you moved in and opened up your book.

The silence wasn't as awkward as you thought it might be...you could almost say it was comfortable. After a while you glanced up to see him pulling some plates down from the cabinet.

"Bangohan ga dekimashita yo," (food is done) he called out. You weren't sure what he said but assumed it meant dinner was ready. Setting your book down and grabbing your phone to pull back up the translator you stood up and made your way into the kitchen, nose in the air at the interesting smells.

"Oh wow," you exclaimed, scanning over the spread of food. Despite having a limited selection of familiar ingredients at the grocery store he seemed to improvise well with whatever you bought. He raised an eyebrow at your fixated stare.

"Stop drooling, weirdo." After filling his plate he left you to do the same before grabbing a glass of water and sitting down at the table. You rolled your tongue back into your mouth and spooned a bit of everything onto your own before doing the same. "Itadakimasu," (let's eat) he mumbled quickly before digging in.

As soon as you lifted the first bite to your mouth you should've prepared yourself for some level of spiciness, but decided it wouldn't be that bad. What you weren't expecting was a burst of flavor that honestly sent you reeling; it was goddamn delicious. But, after swallowing the first bite you started coughing which made Bakugo look towards you, then look down at the food, then back at you with an offended glare.

"The fuck? The food is not bad, I'm not a shit cook," he replied to an unasked question. After gulping down half your glass of water you finally got a hold of yourself and met his glare with one of your own.

"It's spicy!"

He just shrugged. "Yeah, and?"

"I told you at the store I don't like spicy stuff," you explained while scooping up another pile of food. Despite the horrendous burn in your mouth, it tasted good enough to keep you eating.

"How is that my problem?" As if to mock you he also swallowed another bite without so much as flinching. "Weak. I cooked, so I made it how I like it: spicy."

After getting up to refill your glass with ice water, you took a deep sigh before speaking. Things were going well so far tonight and you didn't want to ruin it by getting into a yelling match over food. "That's...fair, I guess. Don't get me wrong, the food is really good and I appreciate that you made it, because you really didn't have to...but holy shit my mouth is on fire." He must've found your exaggeration - or pain - amusing because you swore he actually smiled for a split second before returning to concentrate on his food.

The remainder of dinner was devoured in silence aside from his occasional quip at you having to chug water after every bite. He finished before you did and was about to clear off the counter and dishes before you practically yelled at him to stop.

"Stop! No, I can put things up since you made the food. That's fair, right?" Once again he raised an eyebrow in your direction with a hand on his hip. He really was effortlessly attractive - to an almost unfair point.

"Are you telling me what to do?" he said accusingly. You shook your head in a wide sweep.

"No, I'm telling you what not to do," you answered before stuffing the last bite of food into your mouth and downing the rest of your water. "It's ultimately my kitchen, so you're just borrowing it."

He honesty stared at you before clicking his tongue and walking out of the kitchen and back to the couch to, apparently, stare at your back while you cleaned up dinner.

You cleaned and put away the dishes quickly knowing his eyes were on you the whole time, as if watching for a mistake or dropped glass. Clumsiness came naturally to you, but only when you weren't paying close attention.

After everything that happened during the day, you were honestly more tired than usual despite it being slightly earlier than you'd normally fall asleep. Your brain felt exhausted from trying to comprehend the idea that one of your favorite manga characters came to life from a pillow in your bedroom and now stood in your living room. He was probably as tired as you were, and the sooner he fell asleep, the sooner he could possibly return back to his own universe.

In a completely selfish way you wished he would stay for just another day - to learn more about him, to get to know him on whatever personal level he might allow, or even just capture the mental image of him to keep as a reminder that this was real and not some day-long hallucination. But he didn't belong here, and you knew that, so the sooner he got back home to his Hero work, the sooner he would be happy again.

You walked into the bathroom and closed the door to go through your nightly routine of brushing your teeth and applying moisturizer before looking at yourself in the mirror. You were in your mid-twenties, with a job that paid the bills, and no drama to speak of; well, this entire day consisted of drama, honestly, but it was something you'd never experience again...which made you want to say goodnight properly just in case he disappeared tomorrow.

Opening up the door you came out to actually catch him yawning while sitting on the couch, but Bakugo shut his mouth while you glanced away to avoid staring. He almost looked like a sleepy cat, but you stuffed that adorable image away for now while standing in front of him.

"So. Uh, I'm going to sleep. If you're gone in the morning and are back in your own world, no harm done. I'm sure it's been an annoying day for you." Embarrassment flooded through your chest as he looked up at you, but you pushed forward with what you wanted to say. "If you are, I just wanted to say that it was nice meeting you, despite a rocky start this morning. I've obviously never met anyone who is a real Hero before, and especially not someone who has what amounts to a superpower." Going off his look you added, "Yea, I know its a quirk, I'm just being a smartass."

His fingers drummed on the arm of the couch as if expecting you to say more. When you didn't he took the opportunity to chime in. "I still don't know what kind of quirk sent me here, or what their intentions were. I hate not knowing shit." He paused a moment to stew in his own frustration before continuing.

"I'll be gone, and you can go back to doing whatever you do. Thanks for the food and the couch, and I guess not calling the cops to put me in jail." Considering that alternative you really did provide more than you realized. "No one here will believe you if you told them about me, huh?"

At that you glanced away before running a hand through your hair. "Huh, yeah I guess not. They'd all think I'm crazy or something if I tried to explain it," you said while shaking your head with a light laugh. "But, anyway. Uh, goodnight. Sorry if the couch isn't great but it's all I have." With one final glance his way you walked into your room, closed the door, and locked it behind you before crawling into bed.

"Today was real, I still can't believe it," you mumbled into your pillow. "I have no proof that today was real, but I know it was real so that counts for something...right?" Even though you were tired, the food hadn't settled in your stomach quite yet so after plugging up your phone - that translator app ran down your battery to pretty much nothing after using it most of the day - you scrolled through social media. You followed a couple of blogs that posted art sometimes, and when you ran into a drawing of Bakugo you promptly closed your phone and stared off into the darkness. "Single most surreal moment of my life," you whispered while glancing up at your bedroom door.

The living room line shone from underneath your closed door telling you he must still be awake. It made you feel a bit guilty leaving him alone, but you honestly assumed he'd be tired of your company by now. Maybe he needed time to brainstorm ways to get back home, or why he might've been sent here if it wasn't random. Rather than dwell too much on the "what if" scenarios, you closed your eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep, secretly hoping you might get just one more day with Bakugo Katsuki.